Slavery of the Soul Alternate Sequel
by Wildcard
Summary: this is how the Dark Vignette Triology could have ended, but it can thought of as a standalone. Slash.


Author's Note: There are two different versions of this, the original which I wrote two years ago, and the new one which I wrote a few minutes ago. See if you can guess which is which.

Slavery of the Soul

You stand away from me, watching the moon. That may sound like something from a romance novel, but I knew why you are facing the moon; it was because you'd rather look at it than at me. I understand why; someone so flawless, so perfect wouldn't want to sully their eyes by casting them upon me. You turn around and catch my gaze. For a minute we stand like that, staring into each other's eyes and then I drop my eyes to the ground, flushed and trying frantically to regain control. I don't need to look up to know that you are smirking, you always smirk when you win.

And you always win. You gracefully cross the space between us and lift my chin up. Placing your thumb under my chin, you gently stroke away the tears that had gathered in my eyes, only to curl your nails inwards and scratch my face painfully. I wince and then freeze, scared that you caught the movement. From the way your face darkens I can tell that you have.

"Draco". Against my will my voice cracks halfway through the simple syllable. I clear my throat and try again, looking up into your expressionless eyes. "Draco, please don't leave me." You smile again, not so much because of my plea, but because you love having this power over me.

"Harry, did you really think that I would fall in love with you and decide that you were the only one for me? You poor deluded fool, you managed to deceive yourself into believing that I would actually care for you. I told you already, you mean nothing to me." I know that and still it hurt to hear it from you, the cruel words slipping out from luscious lips. Still, I would rather you hurt me than ignore me, I crave attention from you, negative or positive.

You turn away, about to leave me leaving standing out here, standing out here alone. Stricken by a desperate impulse, I grip your arm. You turn around and look at me incredulously, your face plainly asking how dare I touch you without permission. I gulp and release you, letting my fingertips just gently linger on your sleeve, allowing myself that small pleasure at least. 

"Draco, please don't go, I'll give you anything, anything at all." I beg helplessly, knowing the cruel satisfaction that you feel from hearing me plead. You laugh gently, the mere sound sending chills down my spine and you narrow your eyes.

"You don't have anything left to give. You belong to me heart, body, and soul. What do you have left to offer that would possibly interest me?" You ask, sarcastically, bored with my pathetic attempts to hold you. Knowing you to be on the verge of leaving, I quickly search for anything, anything at all that would bind you to me.
    
    "My life". I say simply, finding the strongest lure to entrap you, the only bait I have left. The temperature drops several degrees as you stare at me, silver eyes glittering.
    
    "Say that again Harry. But only if you meant it." You half-whisper, half-beseech. Daringly, I step closer till we are a threads' breadths away from each other.

"You said it yourself, you have taken everything from me. My heart, my soul, m-my virginity, my pride. The only that I can sacrifice is my life, and I'll gladly lose that if it means that you'll stay a little longer." I say, my voice shaking but my intent steadfast. I take a deep breath and continue. "I'll die if you leave, and that I want you to kill me so that at least I will die by the hands of my beloved. I'd rather you kill me than I live without you." 

"Please Draco, please." I whisper, the word falling from tortured lips, bruised and bleeding from your 'tender' ministrations. How strange that someone would ask for their own death, that they would welcome it, embrace it even. I stop, realizing that I have played my last card and now all I can do is wait for you to decide. You consider it for a while and then nod.
    
    "Agreed." You say curtly, none of the usual confidence and arrogance in your voice. I smile at you through my tears, each one glittering as they traced a meandering path down my cheeks. 
    
    "Accio sword." You say strongly to summon your sword. You showed it to me once. It has the family emblem on it. At least I will die a honorable death, killed by my true love, my only love. It flies to you; hilt first and indeed almost knocks you over from the force of its passage. You shift it to your right hand, and slide your left hand just above the nape of my neck, pulling me closer into one of your perfect kisses. 
    
    So bewitched am I, that I barely even feel the pain as the sword smoothly slides through my back and emerges from my chest. The last thing I see is the sword protruding from your back as well; and the dying beauty in your eyes as I close my own, and we hit the ground, still bound together by the sword that killed us both.


End file.
